You Wake Up
by nanayoung
Summary: You wake up in the middle of a cemetery not knowing how you got there. Events escalate from there.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

You wake up.

You find yourself outside in what **Feels** like a graveyard, judging from the echos of grief, tears and death that surround you like a cloak. It is in the late afternoon, the cool air brushing against your skin, leaves crushed beneath your slacked palms. You are leaning against what feels like a tombstone, your hands to your sides, legs slightly spread, head downward. From what you can tell while your eyes are still closed, you are still dressed the same way you were when you passed out; nothing seems to have been moved or taken from your person. Your wand is still up your sleave, you are still wearing the sleak armor underneath your shirt, and you can feel some of your weapons pressed against your back. More importantly, you still have your daughter's necklace on, as well as your favorate coat. Everything seems to be there, nothing touched.

You keep your eyes closed and your breathing steady, in case anyone is near. You hear nothing but the wind and your own breath, and yet you are not satisfied. There is more than one way to hide one's **Presence** , you know that all too well.

You use your **Essance** as a feeler, and causiously send out a pulse. You feel nothing except the bugs and small animals that live in the forest some yards away. Even with this added reasurance you keep your eyes closed and count to one hundred, your **Essance** pulsing out all the while in a continuous circle aroung you. You cannot be too careful after all.

Once reassured that you are alone, your eyes snap open and you jump to your feet in a smooth motion, wand at ready, feet in a fighting position. Now-a-days you no longer need your wand, but it helps for enemies to underestimate you, to think that you depend on a stick for protection rather than your own **Essance** and the various weapons on your person.

Your eyes do a quick scane of the area. Just as you confirmed, no one is here and there is no evidence of anyone having stepped foot here. No broken leaves, no foot prints, no snapped branches. Not a single sign- besides yourself- that anyone was here.

This troubles you. Whoever summoned you here- and it had to be a summoning since there were still traces of **Essance** in the air- was either really good at covering their tracks and had taken you away from your home for some unknown purpose, or there had been a miscalulation. It was possible that you were summoned and left lone in a graveyard for some nefarios purpose, possibly a head game of sorts. It was also possible that the summoner made a mistake and sent you to a different location by accident. It was _also_ possible that your **Essance** ran away from you again, and transported you in your sleep. Fairly improbable considering how many years you spent gaining complete control over your own **Essance** , but not impossible. Though many are known to be able to differenciate people from their **Essance** , you were not one of them. It was entirely possible that the **Essance** foating about was your own. You were known to make mistakes from time to time.

Contrary to your daughter's beliefs, you are not perfect.

Speaking of your daughter, you should be able to call her. You rifle through your pockets and take out your cell phone. However, upon pressing the power button the screen shows that it is currently dead. Perfect. Your daughter must have used it while you were sleeping and forgot to charge it again. And she wonders why you never bought her one. You sigh and place it back in your coat's left pocket. You need to remind yourself to charge it at a later date.

You send out another pulse, checking once again for any recent **Essance**. There is none.

This puzzles you. Though it is possible that someone could have kidnapped you the **Mundane** way and dropped you here, there would still be an **Essance** pathway of sorts, showing who had been here and for how long. The pathways that surround this graveyard are all weeks, months, and even years old, while your's was only a few minutes old, indicating you had just gotten here. Further examination of your pathway shows that you did not walk here; rather you were teleported by someone else. A portkey possibly?

No. If it was a portkey, then it would have traces of the unknown person's **Essance** as well. It was possible that you were controlled and told to make a portkey to an unknown location, but that too struck you as false. All types of mental intrusion and control leaves **Essance** resedue, not matter how carefully they cover their tracks. When you sent out a pulse, it would have detected the **Essance** resedue in your mind first thing, no matter how small.

Which meant three things. One, you accidentally transported yourself here despite the years of training spent on controlling your **Essance**. Two, something that was able to hind their **Essance** to a startling degree dropped you here. Or three, something without **Essance** kidnapped you for reasons unknown.

It was possible you transported youself here. It would not be the first time your **Essance** had a mind of its own, though you had hoped that you had gotten it under control over the years. Nontheless, you were not perfect, and were bound to make mistakes here and then.

The second option troubled you. It meant somone with an extensive knowledge of **Essance** had gained enough control over their own power that they could hide it from you. Meaning that they were possibly more skilled. Which would also mean that when you eventually come across this unknown person or being, you would have little defense against them. Skill was much more valued in **Essance** users. Power was fine and good, but true skill could make even the weakest the most deadly. You had a lot of skill, much more than a usual user, but you were far from the best.

You dismissed the third option. Everything, from the smallest particle to the most powerful of gods had **Essance**. Some was more potent than others, while some was of the weakest quality, but **Essance** was everywhere. To your knowledge, nothing could exist without **Essance**. That being said, you do not know everything. It might be best to keep the option open, just in case.

As it was, you had no idea which of the three options was true at this time. The best thing you could do at this point would be to figure out where you are, and take it from there.

You put your wand away and begin walking, the fall leaves crunching beneath your boots. The cool fall air made you shiver, and stuff your hands into your coat pockets. Against your will, you felt yourself relax just the slightest bit. Everything was peacefully silent, calming you somewhat. Your life had been without calm for a long time, and while you would not give anything for the life you have now, it still felt good to be at peace. If for just a short while.

You keep your **Essance** pulsing, just in case someone tries to sneak up on you. For most, using one's **Essance** in a constant, unwavering pulse for minutes on end would tire them. You, however, don't even break a sweat. You have more **Essance** than the average person, both because of natural born gifts and hard work.

Mostly hard work.

You are somewhat poud of your skills. You had earned them, after all.

You wade through the forest trees, stepping over the occasional grave. In the distance you see lights, a town of some sort. You sent out a stronger pulse and feel at the town in the distance. They are all **Quasi-Essance** users, or wizards, as they call themselves. Those born with the ability to use their **Essance** , but without the control or malubility that comes from those who learn how to use **Essance** from scratch.

You never really liked wizards. The way in which they used **Essance** always seemed wasteful and lazy to you. There was no real need to incorporate **Essance** into every aspect of life, and yet wizards did it all the wasted countless amounts of **Essance** everyday on simple tasks that they could do by themselves. And while their abilities were versitile, their **Essance** usually lacked the power and skill that came from most **Essance** users, making their **Essance** seem more watered down and weak in comparison to the users you usually met. That wouldn't be such a bad thing, if wizards weren't so incredibly arrogant and unwilling to change or take the necessary steps to make themselves stronger. The stagnation of wizards was well known among many, both **Essance** and **Mundane** alike.

While you disliked the wizarding world, it did mean you can use your **Essance** if you ever get into a fight. You were unable to use any of your other weapons, barring your daggers, however. Most wizards frown upon using **Mundane** weaponry or technology for whatever reason. It was possible that it was a cultural thing, but you suspected that it was another form of wizard arrogance and discrimination. You are not here to make a scene, so for now you must stick to using your **Essance** as a means of protection.

You slip your wand out of your sleeve and hold it in your hand. Again, you do not need it, but it would be best to keep of a facade. Most wizards know nothing of **Essance** users, and you would not be the one to enlighten them. Apperances are everything after all.

Speaking of apperances...

You stop for a second and close your eyes, readying your **Essance**. Even with all the practice you have in **Shifting** and **Changing** , you still find yourself needing to concentrate in order to get all the little details right for the particular form you plan on using. It's one you have used many times before, when you want to seem weak, but at the same time old enough in order to get some level of cooperation from other people.

You feel the change come over you, your form shrinking, losing some of its definition. Your clothes writh to accomidate, becoming baggy and ragged. You feel your hair shorten, your face rearrange, and your nose become a bit more crooked. Your teeth lose some of their sharpness, while your skin pales to a sickly color. Though you cannot see it, you know your once bright blue eyes turn a muddy brown.

You let out your breath, stretching a bit, cracking your neck to the side. You inspect yourself, and nod in satisfaction.

Where there was once a grown woman, now there is a short teenage girl, of eighteen years old.

You continue down the path towards the small town, your normal buisness-like expression change into one of worry and nervousness that wasn't as completely fake as you would like. You do not know where you are or why you are here. You do not know if you were transported for some purpose, or if it was on accident. Until you manage to charge your phone, you cannot contact anyone close to you.

The idea that you were summoned on purpose is becoming more and more likely with each step you take. It is very troubling.


End file.
